


Living Art

by RZZMG



Series: Hermione x Draco stories [40]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Australia, Beach Bar, Beaches, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Tattoos, Unexpected Connection, falling for you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 13:30:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11510415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RZZMG/pseuds/RZZMG
Summary: “As she walked into my shop, setting off the small bell above the door, I took a good, long look and knew that here was a woman changed by some soul-gutting, tormenting defeat… Such desperation was a siren’s call to a man like me.”





	Living Art

**Author's Note:**

> This was my 2nd of 2 entries to the 2017 DramioneLove Mini Fest - Round 2 (2017) (dramionelove . livejournal . com) entry. The fest is over and reveals are out, so now I can post this for you here. This fanfic is finished. It is a one-shot.
> 
> _My prompt for the fest was: #29 - Draco is tattoo artist. Hermione goes to him for a tattoo. Sexy times!  
>  Other requirements: Fic must be under 2500 words_
> 
> TIMELINE: Post-Hogwarts, EWE (2005)
> 
> Thanks to "HolaFromMexico" who came up with this fun prompt! This one is dedicated to you!

* * *

I hadn't recognised Hermione Granger at first; she'd evolved.

Standing outside my shop, lit up by a bright summer sun, she sparkled like a phoenix newly born.

She was…magnificent.

Gone was the ugly frizz on the top of her head, and in its place an attractive pixie cut, dyed a glorious shade of autumn flames. Her face was severe, painted with smoke and ashes, and beneath those sooty lids, her dark eyes glimmered with feral intelligence. Her lips were glossy and stained blood red.

Her mouth… Just looking at it got me hard.

The provocative way she had dressed had me doing a double-take, too: cream halter top, cut low and paired with black Muggle jeans that look plastered to her skin. Tinkling silver hoops hung from her dainty earlobes, and matched the bangles on her wrists. Multiple rings decorated her fingers, each with a different gem. But it was the pair of Italian patent leather stilettos in a sinful shade of glossy midnight on her feet that really had my breath accelerating.

As she walked into my shop, setting off the small bell above the door, I took a good, long look and knew that here was a woman changed by some soul-gutting, tormenting defeat.

Such desperation was a siren's call to a man like me.

She sat down on the firm, leather couch in my lobby and without a word, started skimming through the coffee table album containing pics of my work.

I took the opportunity to observe her life's silent details in a second lazy perusal of her form. She had perfect posture, and kept her knees together. Despite the years, she'd taken good care of her form, with only a small weight gain from what I remembered. Her breasts had finally developed, too, and I had to swallow hard as she leaned forward and the movement pressed them together, exposing a lovely bit of flesh.

The smattering of freckles across her shoulders captured my attention most. She'd been spending time in the sun, I noted, and from where those halter straps ended and began, it looked as though she'd been  _au natural_ / while lying out under those rays. No tan lines.

Overall, she screamed both  _'Beware my fire'_  and  _Come burn with me'_.

Her hand paused as she went to turn the page and her gaze lit on one of my designs. It made her smile, and I knew from the look upon her face that she recognised it. It was a lioness, prowling the paths of her dark Serengeti. I remembered fondly having tatted that one on Angelina Johnson's shoulder blade a few years back…and then I'd ploughed into her from behind when it was finished. The thing had roared right along with her when she'd come.

Good times.

Lounging in the doorway between the customer lobby and the back hallway, I watched her expression change as she flipped through the portfolio. She still wore her feelings on her face; didn't even bother to attempt to hide them, especially when she'd reached the section dedicated to inking over old Dark Marks.

I'd expected disgust, and was instead surprised by the awe and delight she took in viewing the work I'd done to help ex-Death Eaters, like myself, who'd been coerced into taking the Mark by their parents during the war. "These are really beautiful," she said to me without looking up. Her finger traced over a design I'd done for Pansy over her Mark, turning it from a thing of ugliness and shame into an exotic flower design that conjured up images of South Pacific islands and jewel-toned seas. "You do amazing work."

Her unexpected praise caused me to flush with heat. Here was the one person I'd always wanted to impress, more so than that yump, Potter, and I'd never been able to do more than get her to look at me with revulsion or pity. Now she was seeing me in a totally different way…

My mouth was suddenly dry.

"Could you do something special like this for me?" she asked.

"That, I can do. Did you have a design in mind," I asked, trying for smooth and unaffected, hiding behind my craft and the need for professionalism for safety, "or would you like the Artist's Special?"

Finally, she glanced up at me. "Artist's Special?"

Ah, so her friend hadn't told her.

"I pick the design and use magic paints, rather than mundane."

"Like what you did for Angie?"

It seemed she knew a  _little_  about that, after all.

I nodded. "The design has a 'home' wherever I put it on you, but it'll move across your body with your emotions. Living art."

She set the photo album aside. "And what design would you pick for me?"

I was surprised she'd trust me with such an important thing, but considered it. "First, tell me why you want the tattoo." My eyes dipped to her smooth, bronzed skin, again tracing those luscious curves with my gaze. "Are you making a statement or is this about never forgetting a hard lesson learned?"

"Can't it be both?" she asked and reached up to run her fingers through her short locks. "Perhaps I want to never forget something, and make it clear to everyone else exactly that."

"Are you doing it for revenge, or was it a sudden enlightenment on your part?"

"Again, a little of both, but primarily the latter."

"Care to share?"

She sighed. "I finally learned the word 'no'."

"Ah." So, she'd set herself free. It seemed she'd finally gotten the message that adhering to other people's expectations was nothing more than a gilded cage of one's own making. I'd learned that long ago with Lucius…and now I was disinherited and worked here. It had been worth it, though. What good was money to a prisoner? "That's good. Now no one will ever take advantage of you again."

Her dark eyes met mine and for once, we were in perfect accord.

"So what do you think?" she asked me.

I knew exactly what symbol I wanted to paint upon her and the perfect place for it upon that enchanting body of hers. I told her.

Her smile was huge and sincere.

"Perfect!"

 

* * *

 

I'd worked her over for hours, all afternoon and evening, getting the symmetry just right and assuring the colours were a perfect blending of reds, golds, purples, and blues. Sweat had dripped down my body, and by the time it was done, my hands were shaking.

Granger had been a trooper throughout, clenching her teeth against the pain. She'd endured with only a few noises and two bathroom breaks.

Her tattoo was my greatest masterpiece: a phoenix rising from the ashes to begin anew.

It was her, personified in art.

I took pictures of it while she rested, brought her water, wiped her brow. She stared up at me from where she lay and there was a peace in her face I'd never seen in any other person who'd sat in my studio. She looked like a woman who had finally come into her own, who had decided to take her life into her hands and craft it not for others, but for her own enjoyment.

I took pride in knowing I'd brought her to a place of peace and immense satisfaction.

I gently touched my art, and even through the gloves, I could feel the heat rolling off her skin. "This is a bigger tat than I've ever made before, so it'll need to set for a bit before I can activate the magic to animate it. When it heals, you'll need to come back so we can do that," I told her. I then washed the tattoo, allowed it to dry and applied some ointment to it. As I did so, I gave her the standard care-taking instructions. "I've got a pamphlet you need to read and follow for the next few days while it heals."

She took the literature, paid for the tattoo, made an appointment to return in a week, and left soon after, wincing slightly as she redressed and moved around.

As she Apparated away, the thought of seeing that tattoo burst into flames as she came under me had me closing up early and heading for my flat above floors for a little 'alone time'.

 

* * *

 

A week later, the hour we'd agreed upon came and went, and then another, and still no Granger.

Perhaps she hadn't liked my work after all…

By eight that night, there was no sign of her, so I closed up the register. I was just locking the front door when she appeared on the other side of the glass, looking up at me, beautifully defiant.

As I let her in, I didn't bother to mention she'd missed her appointment.

She marched in, looked around, even stepped into the back work area and checked every room. Then, she came back into the lobby and stepped into my grill as if she was about to issue a challenge.

"I want to have sex with you."

That made me smile. "What a coincidence. I want to have sex with you."

She looked me over like she wanted to eat me right where I was standing. I started to sweat with anticipation.

"Right here, in this room."

The front window's curtain hadn't been drawn yet. She noted my eyes stray to it and waved a dismissive hand.

"Leave it."

Well, well. An exhibitionist. This should be fun. "Have a preference for where you'd like me to fuck you the first time?" I asked, because yes, I'd be having her more than once tonight, and there were a few choices area around the place, including the small sofa, the chair behind the register, the counter… "How much of a rebel are you willing to be, Granger?"

Her dark, expressive eyes met mine. "First time's yours, to thank you for the art. After that, you serve  _my_  pleasure."

I felt like a kid at Christmas. My cheeks were aching from all the grins. "That, I can do." I moved closer to her. "Then I want you against that window, facing outward, so anyone walking by will see me fucking you."

Here was hoping there were no reporters on the street at this time of the night, because they were getting a hardcore freak-show for free in a minute.

"Agreed," she said, already shucking her outfit with hasty hands. "Let's get started then, shall we?"

Standing in front of me, completely naked and unafraid, she was the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen. The tattoo of the phoenix I'd etched upon her skin peeked at me from over her left ribs. I followed its shape where it curled around her waist and hip, knowing the tail feathers ended at the dip of her spine. It was gorgeous on her, and I couldn't wait to glamour it with magic.

She reached for me at the same moment I lifted my hand for her. Our fingers curled and came together, and with an easy tug, she was in my arms.

"Teach me how to be free, Draco," she whispered.

My heart skipped at the awesome responsibility, but there was no way I could turn back now. I couldn't even if I'd wanted to.

I lowered my head and claimed her soft, red mouth… and burst into flames on the spot.

 

* * *

 

I spent the next week watching the street outside my door, hoping for a flash of dark red hair to pass by, maybe stop in. No such luck. Granger had disappeared just as suddenly as she'd come into my life.

A month later, I heard through the rumour-mill (a.k.a. Pansy the Prattler) that Granger had left for Australia. She'd decided to move there permanently, leaving wizarding England behind for good. I was bereft at the news. The witch had done something to me that night we'd spent together and I was finding it difficult to get past it. I don't care how sappy it sounds, but you don't spend hours buried inside the sweetest body you've ever known and not feel  _something_. She'd seen it, too, mirrored it even. There was something between us, an unexpected connection that had burned us both and sent me into a tailspin of longing for more…and her into flying away.

Now, all I could think about was the kiss I'd given her that first time, and the way she'd whimpered into it as she'd feverishly kissed me back.

Another week went by before I'd finally made up my mind. I closed the shop early that day, packed a bag, and decided that if my free bird wouldn't come to me, then I'd just have to fly to her.

 

* * *

 

Of all the things I'd ever imagined Granger doing, owning a beach-front bar that hired live bands and served exotic drinks in the land 'Down Under' had not been at the top of the list. It fit the 'new her', though, I had to admit.

I watched her all of that first day, waiting for some boyfriend to swoop down and fly away with her across the glittering expanse of the Pacific and over the endless horizon, but that never happened. Instead, all she did was look out on the water with a sad frown and sigh in between serving customers and dealing with her staff.

Apparently, her rebellious search for a worthier meaning and for retribution against whoever had wronged her had ended, and its conclusion hadn't revealed what she'd expected.

I remember feeling similarly disappointed after I'd managed to stick it to my old man at long last. Doing so hadn't given me the satisfaction I'd anticipated, and it had taken a few years on my own, of becoming comfortable in my new skin before I'd realised that what Pansy was constantly nattering on about to me was true: the only person whose approval really mattered was my own.

I knew I couldn't give my lady phoenix the power of self-enlightenment, as that required a walk-about of self-discovery, but I suddenly found that I wanted to be with her on that journey, too.

 

* * *

 

As the moon came out that night and the indigo sky lay like a cooling blanket over the world, the tiki torches on the beach were lit, and people came out to dance on the cooling sand around Granger's bar. In the background, the steel drums played soft music.

I waited until she on the edge of her property to approach.

"I do adore your defiance," I whispered in her ear, as I stepped up behind her. I gently traced down her sun-darkened shoulder, over the phoenix I'd so lovingly painted upon her skin. It shimmered and shivered at my touch, giving a magical trill that was both haunting and lovely in its melody. It recognised me, as I knew she did. "It's my favourite thing about you, Granger."

I waited for her to say something, but instead, she simply leaned into me. I wrapped my arms around her and we swayed together to the music for a while.

"You taught me how to be free," she said after a long, silent while, "now teach me how to come back down, Draco."

I kissed her temple and accepted that it was time for me to evolve, too.

"That, I can do, love."

.

_**~FIN~** _

.


End file.
